


One More Dance

by suckyatmaps



Series: A Momentary Lapse in Seasons [5]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Dancing Lessons, Established Relationship, Ficlet, Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2020-01-12 04:32:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18439103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suckyatmaps/pseuds/suckyatmaps
Summary: Sherlock teaches John to dance. It quickly devolves.Standalone.





	One More Dance

The lights are low and the fire is roaring, keeping the inky spill of night at bay. Rain is drumming on the rooftop, a rhythmic cacophony tapped out in beats.

“Your dancing skills are appalling,” says Sherlock, his voice piercing the quiet room.

“You’ve never even seen me dance!”

“Exactly, suggesting your ineptitude in that area,” he replies, padding across the flat towards him.

“Christ, you’re infuriating.”

“And you’re rubbish at dancing.”

John only shakes his head, sighing as he falls back on the sofa. “Probably am, now that you mention it. Never really had the chance to learn.” Sherlock leans over John’s shoulder, his breath hot against his cheek as he murmurs into his ear. "Would you like to?"

“Can’t be tripping over my own feet at our wedding, now, can I,” John says, turning off the telly as he stands. Sherlock takes his hands, pulling him closer until they’re inches apart, their fingers tangled together. A slight grin tugs at the corners of his mouth, one which John returns.

“Here, place your hand on my shoulder,” he whispers, looping his own arm around. “I’m going to step forward with my left.”

“Wait,” says John, his head tilting as he perches on his tiptoes, placing a soft kiss upon his lips before flitting away. A rosy glow spreads across Sherlock’s cheeks, momentarily blindsided. “Ready, now.”

Sherlock guides him towards the window, pauses. Steps right, then back again, left. Moves to a silent melody as Sherlock steers John across the flat, righting his stumbles with a delicate caress. Turns and circles around, gliding over the floorboards in tandem. Sherlock draws him nearer, pressing him against his chest and enveloping him in a cocoon of warmth and silk. He melts into Sherlock’s arms, feeling his pulse beneath his cotton shirt, his unhurried breath. Outside, rain continues to fall, surrounding them in a quiet din. The city has long slept, the racket of the living; hushed. Only them, now, awake but not alone.

“Let go of my shoulder,” says Sherlock, dropping his right arm from John’s back. He lifts his left, their hands still clasped together as he leads John through a twirl. Falters, at the last second.

A breath.

Sherlock has wrapped his arms around him, catches him before he hits the floor.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah. Thanks.” He picks himself up, Sherlock’s hand on his back, steadying. John returns his hand onto Sherlock’s shoulder, twines their fingers together. “Again?”

Slower, this time; a lax turn of his toes. Momentum propels him towards Sherlock and he pulls John into an embrace, his hand brushing the back of John’s head. Nudges him closer, his heart thudding; racing.

“John.” His breath hitches as he hesitates, briefly uncertain. Then he leans forward, brushing his lips over John’s; barely touching. John’s hand snakes down his side as he moves closer, snagging Sherlock’s mouth with his own and pushing him against the wall. He’s soft and yielding, his forearm caught in John’s hand as he’s pinned underneath, a soft moan escaping his parted lips. Sherlock traces his fingertips over the curve of John's neck, slips down to his pyjama buttons. Pulls away for a moment, breathless.

"Bed?"

“Yeah.”

 

 

 


End file.
